Life's Little Pleasures
by Vietta
Summary: Veld is surprised when Tseng suggests he hires a degenerate he brought in off the streets, but Tseng is the one in for a surprise when Veld agrees.
1. Chapter 1

A pile of manila folders grew larger beside Veld's desk, his head swimming as he tried to process the information given to him. It was cold in his office, making him glad for his multi-layered suit that not only protected him from bullets, but made the chill of the air conditioning harder to detect. He ran a hand through his hair as he opened the next file, fighting a grimace as Tseng walked into his office, likely expecting him to have made a decision. He didn't look up to acknowledge the dark-haired man as he quietly made his way to the side of his desk. Tseng cleared his throat, his voice deep and even. "Sir, have you decided one which one to hire, yet?"

Veld sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose in one large hand and closing his eyes, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Every single one of them is the same. None of them stand out at all."

"Not even the one who got a perfect score on the firearms accuracy test we issued?" Tseng raised an eyebrow, standing straight, tall, and doing his best to ignore the fact that Veld was indirectly telling him that all the Turk trainees he had spent months training were worthless. He wouldn't let their failure to impress his boss get under his skin, because, after all, it was their failure and not his. He did, however, find himself more than a little stung by Veld's words.

Veld shook his head, shutting the file he had been looking over. "No, every Turk gets a perfect score on the test. You did it, I did it, and everyone else does it. It's part of being a Turk." Veld looked up, blinking in surprise as he caught sight of Tseng for the first time. "What the hell happened to you?" The Wutain man was out of uniform, well, out of Turk uniform anyways. He was wearing a Soldier's uniform, a third class uniform nonetheless, and it was splattered with blood. It seemed that some of the blood was still fresh. Veld was highly surprised that he hadn't smelled the blood right away. Perhaps he was just so accustomed to the scent that was so woven into his everyday life that he simply wasn't as sensitive to it anymore.

Tseng sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, a move that was far too casual for Tseng to make. The movement that would have seemed normal for anyone else seemed more than a little out of place when made by the stoic, austere man. He stared at a coffee ring on Veld's desk as he spoke, mentally deriding the man's lack of concern for coasters. "Well, do you remember how we've been having incidents lately? Regarding the attacks on third class Soldier's by a local gang?"

"I'm guessing you took it upon yourself to dress up, lure them out, and destroy them?" Veld raised an eyebrow, wondering why Tseng had decided to meddle in affairs that Soldier personnel should have taken care of.

"Correct." Tseng nodded, avoiding Veld's eyes. He knew his superior would be more than a little amused by his appearance and he had no intentions of seeing the mirth in his eyes firsthand. "Third class Soldiers get enough hell as it is during training, I thought it…Unfair that they were being hazed during time allotted to a respite from hazing."

"True, it does seem unfair." Veld managed to hide a chuckle at Tseng's concern for the third class Soldiers. "I'm also guessing you were successful?" Veld looked Tseng over, trying to access the damage done to his second in command. It didn't look like Tseng was terribly hurt, but he had more than one bruise and there was a disturbingly fresh line of blood seeping into the cloth of his pants.

"Mostly. I was alright until the fourth one joined in." Tseng frowned, his eyes narrowing to slits.

"Oh? Do tell." Veld opened his desk drawers, searching for a recover materia to fix up Tseng's apparently forgotten wound. If the Wutain man wasn't going to start carrying recover materia in his arsenal, Veld was going to have to insert one or two of the green orbs directly under the man's skin so he wouldn't forget them.

"Well, I dispatched the first three without incident. The fourth one, however, was more…Talented than the others. I underestimated him." Tseng rubbed his slightly swollen lip, a frown crinkling the darkening ring around his left eye.

"I can tell." Veld smirked, finding his materia tucked away in one of his desk drawers. He stood, making his way around the desk. "He must have been skilled. Did he land all of these hits on you?"  
"Unfortunately, yes. I don't need materia for bruises, sir, don't waste the energy on my fat lip." Tseng held up a hand in protest as Veld made his way towards him.

"No, you can keep your fat lip, but the stab wound in your side needs fixed up." Veld nodded to the darkening stain that was taking over Tseng's borrowed uniform. It wasn't likely that the stain would ever wash out.

Tseng blinked in surprise, looking down at his side. "What? I got stabbed?"

"He stabbed you and you didn't notice?" Veld raised an eyebrow, grabbing Tseng's shirt and raising it to examine the wound. He laughed as he began healing up the area, unable to stop himself. "Just so you know; it seems he actually stabbed you twice. How could you not have noticed?"

Tseng blinked, holding his shirt up and allowing Veld to heal him. "I was probably more focused on putting him on the ground. I never even saw him pull a weapon on me."

Veld laughed and finished fixing Tseng's side, wiping his fingers off of Tseng's shirt to remove the blood. "So, did you kill him?"

Tseng tucked his shirt back into his pants, shaking his head. "No, I brought him in. I figured that he'd be able to give me the information I needed to find the rest of the gang. I know that the few I fought tonight couldn't be the only ones out there."

"Let's go pay your friend a visit then." Veld led the way out of his office, knowing Tseng would follow obediently. Veld wanted to see what kind of a man could land a hit on Tseng, a Turk who Veld himself, with all his experience, had difficulty keeping up with in a sparring match. It was why Tseng was his second in command. It was why Tseng would replace him if he ever had something unfortunate happen.

Veld stepped into the observing room of the Turk holding cells, nodding to one of the second class Soldiers who had been tasked with watching Tseng's captive while the man had gone to fetch him. The Soldier nodded back and left the room at a wave of Veld's hand. Veld looked through the one way mirror with interest, clasping his hands behind his back. Tseng stood next to him, taking up a similar stance. Veld smiled as Tseng mirrored him, knowing that the man's every move was dictated by his desire to be the best Turk there ever was. Veld knew he had the ability to reach that goal and he had no doubts that Tseng would become a legend within the ranks of the Turks someday.

Veld looked into the brightly lit room beyond the glass, noting that Tseng had stationed two Second class Soldiers in that room as well. The dark-haired man was taking extra precaution with this particular prisoner, and Veld could see why. While Tseng was next to him, bruised and bloody, the red-headed man sitting at the table across from the mirror seemed to be in good shape. True, he had a black eye and a very swollen lip, but for having fought with Tseng it was surprising that he wasn't bearing more extensive injuries. Either Tseng had been generous enough to leave him whole, or the man had put up a good fight. Veld looked to Tseng after noting the man's bright red tattoos with distaste. "Have you interrogated him yet?"

"I have not made the attempt yet, no. I thought, perhaps, you might want to handle this one." Tseng glared at the red-head through the glass, his feather's obviously ruffled by the degenerate.

Veld chuckled and crossed his arms in front of his chest. "You brought him in yet you don't want to interrogate him? Highly unusual. I'm assuming you don't want me to ask him about the gang after all?"

Tseng shook his head, looking the red-head over through narrowed eyes. "No. I had other plans in mind, if you wanted to consider them."

"Oh?" Veld looked at Tseng, surprised by the good mood he had been put in by the strange situation. "What kind of plans?"

"We have a position available in our ranks, do we not?" Tseng looked at Veld, his face stern and serious.

Veld blinked, shocked, "You want to pull in someone off the street? After you trained so many Turks who actually applied for the opportunity to join our ranks?"

"I do, sir. He's got a lot of potential." Tseng knew he was acting very out of character, but he knew potential when he saw it and the man on the other side of the glass had a great deal of it. The man's attitude was horrible, from what little Tseng had seen of it, but his street learned skills were extraordinary.

"You think that because he got lucky in one fight?" Veld frowned, his good mood soured a little by Tseng's sudden odd request.

"No, I think that because on the way back to Shinra, he managed to get out of the cuffs I had him in three times. I was leading him by the cuffs. They weren't broken. He didn't try to run away any of the times he got his hands free, he just wanted a cigarette. He's an odd character, but he's good. If he can escape while under my watch, you know he's got potential." Tseng clenched his hands behind his back, keeping his face impassive and serious. He wanted Veld to hire the man. If someone trained him well, someone who wasn't Tseng because Tseng truly didn't want to train the unruly degenerate, the redhead had the potential to be a valuable asset to the company. Tseng cleared his throat, bringing up another point that he knew Veld wouldn't respond to. "Besides, it's not that unusual to pull Turks in off the streets because they got lucky in a fight." Tseng himself had been brought in by Veld in such a manner. He had never applied to the Turks, the Turks had simply hired him.

Veld rubbed his chin, looking at the man through the glass and deliberately ignoring Tseng's comment. He had brought Tseng in after the man had managed to not only fight him and escape, but to pick his pocket while doing so. It had taken him a week to track the Wutain down, but he had done it and had brought him in soon after. "If he's that good at escaping, why is he still cuffed to the chair?"  
"I don't know why he hasn't tried again. Maybe because he knows he's outnumbered?" Tseng looked at the redhead, wondering the same thing Veld was. What was the redhead playing at?

"Well, I'll go talk to our little escape artist, but I don't promise anything. I'll dismiss the Seconds you brought in. They're no longer necessary." Veld left the observing room, making his way to the holding room. He waved the Seconds away, smiling at them kindly as he did so. "Go ahead and leave, gentlemen, I've got this under control."

A loud, "Sir!" was the reply Veld received, the Seconds leaving the room with haste. Veld sat across from the redhead, folding his hands in front of him as he did so. The man's hair was short and unruly, spiking out to frame his narrow face. The tattoos that arced under his eyes were the same, brightly dyed red of his hair. Veld smiled, resisting the urge to shake his head at the ridiculousness of Tseng's idea that this tattooed degenerate was Turk material. "So, you're one of the men who have been traumatizing our Third class Soldiers?"  
"Sure am. Whatcha gonna do about it?" The man's snarky voice grated on Veld's ears and the smirk that crossed the man's bruised face made Veld want to punch the ingrate. Veld was starting to wonder if the man had hit Tseng in the head a little too hard. The Turks was comprised of more than one odd character, but none this odd.

"For now, ask why." Veld kept his voice kind and his face relaxed, not betraying any emotions to the much younger man. The redhead couldn't be more than a teenager.

"I did it because the guys thought it'd be fun. I'm too lazy to actually go picking fights unless I have to." The man shrugged; his irritation at being captured evident.

Veld raised an eyebrow. "I'm assuming there's a much larger gang than just your four?"

"Gang? I'm not in a gang. They were just a bunch of drunks I hang out with. If they were in a gang, that's their business. I just thought they were fun to drink with." The redhead snorted, his eyes rolling in their sockets.

Veld frowned, his confusion growing. "So, you just did it because you were told to? Do you usually do that?" The knowledge that the man blindly followed orders was reassuring, but Veld still hoped that Tseng had been attempting to tell a joke when he had suggest that the man be a Turk.

"I do what I want." The man frowned, his puffy, black eye looking even more horrible when his eye narrowed.

"So you wanted to do what they said?" Veld felt the urge to rub his temples as a vein behind them pulsed hard against his skin.

"Like I said, I do what I want. I wanted to go with them, so I did. When they saw your blueberry walking around and wanted to jump him, I figured I'd hang around to watch the fun. When your blueberry turned out to not be a blueberry and started kicking their asses, I wanted to jump in and give them enough time to run away. They have families; they don't need to get arrested." The redhead propped his feet up on the table, crossing his arms over his chest in a fluid motion as he spoke. The cuffs that had held his hands behind his back dangled from one wrist.

Veld blinked in shock and peered under the table, staring at the still closed shackles that had been holding the redhead's legs restrained. The redhead laughed as he resurfaced from under the table, his smirk wider than it had been before. "So, anything else you need to know?"

Veld stood, shaking his head. "I need to have a word with my subordinate first. If you try to leave that chair I will shoot the shit out of you."

"Sure thing, bossman." The redhead gave a sloppy, insulting salute as he leaned his chair back, his mouth still twisted in a wide smirk.

Veld quickly walked back to the observation room, slamming the door shut behind him as he entered. Tseng was laughing, something that scared Veld almost as much as it angered him. "Why are you laughing?"

Tseng laughed, his sides aching because they were not used to laughing at all. "You weren't expecting that at all. Your reaction was so funny!"

Veld frowned and looked back into the room, noting that the redhead was giving him a little wave with his fingers. He made sure that the glass was still set up so that he couldn't be seen. "Tseng, know right now, if I hire him, he's your responsibility. Entirely your responsibility! His fuck-ups will be your fuck-ups!"

Tseng stopped laughing immediately, straightening as he paled. "But I don't want to train him!"

Veld smirked; glad to have the last laugh in the matter. "Well, you're going to. As of right now, he's hired whether he wants to be a Turk or not. I have never had somebody escape that discretely while I was watching. How the hell did he even get the shackles off his ankles?"

"Beats me; I've never been able to get shackles off with my shoes still on." Tseng looked out at the redhead, noting the gum stuck to the bottom of the man's shoe with distaste.

"Well, however he did it, you're going to learn how to do it and teach it to everyone else while you train him." Veld was enjoying Tseng's discomfort. He hoped the difficult redhead would teach the Wutain how to loosen up and enjoy life's little pleasures. Tseng didn't seem to know how to have any fun or how to connect with people. Being paired with someone who, from what Veld had gathered, only did things they enjoyed or wanted to do, might teach Tseng to be a little less 'by-the-book'. "I'll go tell him about the wonderful job opportunity you've thrust down his throat. I'm sure he'll just love knowing that he's a Turk now."

They both looked up when the redhead spoke, his voice carried to them by the microphones in the other room. "Hey, can you send in that hot guy I fought earlier before you send me off to jail or whatever? I want his number."

Veld grinned as Tseng blushed dark, patting the man on the back as he made his way to the other room. "On second thought, I think I'll let you tell him about his new job."

Veld left laughing as Tseng stammered behind him, glad to see sides of his subordinate's personality that he had never seen before. He hoped the redhead wouldn't prove to be a disappointment; Veld was starting to have high hopes for his future with the Shinra Electric Company.

* * *

**Author's Note: This is for a word prompt I got. The prompt word was 'hire'. I was immediately given this idea. Why? No idea why this was the first idea to come into my head, but considering how much I love to write about Reno getting hired and the different ways it could have happened, this doesn't surprise me. **

**Also, there were a few ideas that popped through my head that could make this story a multi-chaptered one, but I won't do it unless I have people request it. I'm a little busy with other projects so I want to know that people would read a multi-chapter based off this initial idea before I start expanding the story out.**


	2. Chapter 2

Tseng ran a hand over his face as he waited for his embarrassment to fade. He was not a man who often regretted his decisions, but he was certainly feeling the unfamiliar pangs of regret now. Once his face was no longer red he would enter the room on the other side of the glass, but until then he was going to have to sit and stare at the loudmouth man sitting across from him. Just what was the man trying to pull? All the times he had escaped from his cuffs he had simply dug through his pockets in search of a cigarette until Tseng stopped trying to restrain him and let him have the cancer stick. Tseng examined the man with curiosity, shaking his head as the man dug through his pockets in vain. Addiction truly was a problem with this one, and Tseng was reluctant to be the sad sap who had to break the redhead's vice. There was no smoking inside the Shinra building and if the redhead couldn't stand fifteen minutes without a smoke, he was going to get himself into trouble. Tseng frowned as the redhead stood up, hands on his hips and staring straight at the glass.

"Where'd my smokes go?" The redhead's eyes were trying to pierce holes in the glass without much success.

Tseng pushed the intercom button and gave a quick response. "They have been confiscated. There is no smoking allowed on Shinra property except in designated smoking gazebos. Don't you remember what we would do if you got out of the chair?"

"Yeah, yeah you'll shoot the shit out of me. Listen, pal, I don't give two shits about whatever the fuck a gazebo is or gettin' shot, I want my smokes!" The redhead's menacing glare was lost on Tseng as it was directed at the wrong side of the glass.

"Too bad. No smoking." Tseng shut the intercom off and watched as the redhead plopped back into his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.

The pout that crossed the redheads face was childish and pulled no sympathy from Tseng. Until the blood on his borrowed uniform dried, it was highly unlikely that Tseng would be able to feel any pity for the man who had made a fool out of him more than once today. He sighed and made his way to the holding room, his embarrassment now under control. Had Veld not been around to hear the snarky redhead ask for his phone number, Tseng would have been unaffected by the event. But since Veld, his mentor and role model, had been in the room, Tseng had turned red up to his ears.

Tseng stepped into the room with all the professionalism he could muster, and sat across from the man. "What's your name?"

The redhead's face brightened and he sat up with a toothy grin. "Oooh, introductions before the first date, eh? I'm Reno, slick, nice ta meet ya!"

Tseng had to control the urge to press his face into his hands. This was going to be tedious. He nodded and cleared his throat. "Well, Reno, I'm here to congratulate you." Tseng resisted the urge to smile as he remembered that Veld had welcomed him into the Turks with the same line, the line that was likely used on every Turk ever recruited.

"Congratulate me?" Reno raised an eyebrow. "On what?"

"Being hired, of course. Welcome to the Turks." Tseng set his hands on top of the table and continued. "So you know, this isn't an offer you can refuse. The paperwork will be done before morning."

Reno frowned and stood. "There's no fuckin' way, man. I ain't doin' it!"

"Too bad." Tseng snorted softly, not intimidated or bothered by the man's attempt to look menacing. "I'd take the offer, if I were you. You'll live longer."

Reno sat back down and cradled his head in his hands. "Shit, man! I've heard stories about the damn Turks! None of them are flattering!"

"What's not flattering about being a highly skilled assassin, spy, thief, and body guard?" Tseng raised an eyebrow, knowing full well what wasn't flattering about being a Turk. The question seemed to catch the redhead off guard and Tseng continued as the man scrambled for an answer. "Turks are awarded many benefits by Shinra for their services. We are given free health care, housing, insurance, and all legal matters we incur while going about our business are handled by the company. Jail is not something you'll have to worry about as a Turk. Oh, and the salary is nice too." Since the man had been so persistently asking Veld about jail before, Tseng figured that he could try and use the idea of freedom as incentive for Reno.

"Wait, I won't go to jail? Ever?" Reno seemed more than interested the 'get-out-of-jail-free' card that Tseng was dangling in front of him. He was greedy for the immunity Tseng was taunting him with.

"No. Not unless it is required for you to go undercover in a prison or if you get captured by an enemy faction while on mission." Tseng noted the way Reno's eyes widened at the idea of escaping prison sentencing. Perhaps the redhead had warrants out for his arrest? Tseng would be sure to check once he was done here.

Reno sat back and ran a hand through his hair. "Shit, man. That's… It would kinda suck balls if I got tossed in prison on the job but… You guys will keep me from getting tossed in jail for stuff I do for you? Killing and stealing and shit?"

"Yes, we will. Whatever you do while under Shinra protection, so long as it is something that you are ordered to do or is necessary to complete the task you have been handed, you will be pardoned for it." Tseng was sure he had the hooligan in his clutches now.

"Then sign me up!" Reno leaned back in his chair and propped his dirty, falling apart shoes on the table. Tseng wrinkled his nose in disgust.

"We already have. Now, we have to get you put into some form of housing arrangement, but before that you'll need to see a doctor so we can assess your health. Hopefully you haven't given yourself lung cancer yet." Tseng stood, motioning for the man to follow him. It had been surprisingly easy to get the man's compliance. Then again, Tseng thought to himself, the redhead didn't have many other options and he seemed to know it.

Reno got out of the chair and stuffed his hands into the pockets of his torn, filthy jeans. "Not that I'm aware of." Reno started following Tseng out of the room but then stopped, blinking as a sudden realization hit him. "Hey, you guys are gonna train me to do all that spy assassin stuff, right?"

"Yes, we are." Tseng turned to face the man, wondering why his face was lit up again.

Reno grinned. "So, are you gonna be the one that trains me?"

"Unfortunately." Tseng was unable to bite back the comment. He supposed he should have said that a little nicer.

Reno's grin didn't falter, however, and he continued. "Awesome! That means I get your number! Wanna go on a date?"

"Hell no." Tseng frowned and turned on his heel, shaking his head at the single-minded way the man had decided to pursue him.

"Why not? Is it 'cause I stabbed ya?" Reno walked after Tseng like a puppy begging for attention.

Tseng frowned at Reno. "You got lucky with that."

"Yeah, right. Whatever makes you feel better, bossman." Reno snorted and walked faster to keep up with Tseng's purposeful stride. "So, why not?"

"Because from the little I know of you, you repulse me." Tseng kept walking, his voice even but stern. There was no way he was going to be spending any extra time with the dirty street runt.

"Awww, come on! I ain't that bad!" Reno stood in front of Tseng, trying to block his path.

Tseng frowned and pushed him aside. "Knock it off. I said no."

Reno chased after Tseng, undeterred by his rejection. "Maybe after I've had a shower you'll change your mind, eh? I was pretty hot before you ground my face in the mud, ya know."

"Really? Couldn't see that through the black eye you gave me when you ran up and clocked me in the face while I was cuffing your friend." Tseng felt his feathers ruffle as Reno walked closer than was comfortable or necessary. The man apparently had no concept of personal space or respect.

"Hey, I had to jump ya! You were too good for me to just walk up without the element of surprise! I just watched those guys do that and whatever you think I'm not stupid enough to get clocked out like that. Besides, you returned the favor." Reno pointed to the thick bruise around his eye with a snort.

"Of course I did." Tseng snorted, wishing he had thrown a harder right hook.

"Oh, and about the stabbing thing? Sorry about that too but I was losing and I fight dirty when I lose." Reno stuffed his hands back in his pockets, wishing he had a cigarette to occupy them.

"You fought dirty before you lost. If I hadn't been wearing a cup you might have succeeded in escaping." Tseng frowned at the uncouth man who, in a span of three minutes, had managed to ask him on a date and then make excuses for how ill-mannered his fighting style had been. His behavior was unfathomably erratic. "Besides, it was a fight. These things are expected. I'm just saying that, had I not underestimated you, you wouldn't have been able to do any of that."

"Oh really?" Reno snorted, feeling wounded by the way Tseng sloughed off his few accomplishments during their fight. "I bet that I could still land hits on you even if I didn't jump you!"

Tseng laughed at that assertion. "Oh, right, because an untrained slumdog can really hold a candle to a highly trained Turk in a fair fight."

"I could!" Reno frowned as Tseng led him into what looked like a hospital, the hairs on the back of his neck raising as he caught the whiff of cleanliness and death that always accompanied hospitals.

"No, you couldn't. Don't give yourself credit you don't deserve." Tseng snorted and led the overconfident man into a room of the hospital, knowing that a doctor would be showing up soon even though Tseng hadn't said a word to the receptionist to ask for one. Turks were given special, immediate treatment at Shinra just like First Class Soldiers and members of the Board. No other groups received such exclusive benefits from the company and its personnel and Tseng felt proud to have such recognition.

Reno sat on the tissue coated exam table in the middle of the room as a wave of Tseng's hand let him know he was supposed to. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted at the Wutain, his eyes narrowed. "Don't think you're better than me just because of some special as shit training, alright?"

"Just stay put and let the doctor examine you." Tseng frowned and left the room as the white coated doctor made his way into the room. Tseng stood outside the closed door and rubbed his temples. He wanted nothing more than to shoot the cocky bastard in the room behind him. He was sure Veld would tan his hide if he did, though, and it was his own fault for seeing potential in the man. He wished he hadn't, though, because at the rate things were going Tseng was going to have a migraine before he even started training the man.

A sharp whistle interrupted his brooding and he looked up, glad to see a familiar face, even if company was unwanted. He nodded as Siete made her way across the waiting room towards him, one hand heavily bandaged and the other holding her beloved shotgun close to her hip. He raised an eyebrow at the bandages. "What happened, Siete?"

"Well, the last mission didn't go to great, Tseng." Siete sighed and looked at her hand. "Had a defective fire materia. It went off in my hand. I got burned pretty badly before I dropped it. Why are you dressed like a blueberry and who the hell did that to your face?"

"Its mission related." Tseng frowned. "I'll have someone look into that materia, though. All of our materia should be safe to use. I'm sorry that happened."

"Not your fault." Siete smiled, her cheerfulness not dampened by the fact that her hand was badly injured. "A little materia and I'll be alright."

"Why didn't you use some already, though?" Tseng knew Siete had taken restore materia with her. He had personally seen her pack a level three before she left.

"Well, I had to keep shooting to get to safety." Siete smiled as a doctor came to her side, beginning to examine her hand without asking any questions. Quiet doctors were all part of being a Turk.

"I see. Did you complete the objective despite the hindrances?" Tseng watched as the doctor unwrapped Siete's hand, restraining the urge to grimace at the severity of her wound. Burns were as painful to look at as they were to have.

"Yes, sir. That's why I'm glad I found you loitering." Siete smiled and passed him her shotgun as she reached into her jacket pocket, withdrawing the neat manila folder he had sent her to retrieve.

"I'm not loitering. I'm here on official Turk business." Tseng frowned and took the envelope, passing back Siete's weapon. She was always watching him to see if he slacked off. It wasn't because she was worried he would, it was because she had it in her head that he was a pre-programmed work robot that Reeve had created to become the perfect Turk and that, if his programming proved successful, all Turks would be replaced with robots. While the idea didn't offend Tseng, it did worry him a little that his subordinates thought he was that strict all of the time. It also worried him that Siete thought Reeve was using company funding to make robots to replace Turks. If anything, Reeve was using company funding to make robots to replace Soldiers. "I'm waiting for a doctor to finish looking over our newest Turk."

Siete's eyes widened and she removed her newly healed hand from the doctor's grasp. "We've got a new member? Which one of the trainees made it?"

"None of them." Tseng looked through the file Siete had passed him, eyes roaming the page as he heard a muffled outcry from the other room. If Reno was starting to cause problems, Tseng might have to step in and fix things. The doctor waved the materia over Tseng without a word, healing up the bruises and scratched he had gotten while fighting earlier. Tseng nodded his appreciation before continuing. "Veld rejected all of them."

Siete blinked in shock, her voice louder than Tseng would have liked. "Well who is it then?"

Tseng smiled and tucked the folder into his jacket. "I should be able to present him to the rest of the department in a few days as our official new member. Until then, feel free to let the other Turks know that our free position has been filled. I'm sure they're all eager to know who the newest punching bag is."

Siete saluted. "Yes, sir!" She ran off, thankfully not noticing the much louder outburst coming from the room behind Tseng.

Tseng sighed as the sounds of a scuffle were heard behind the door and straightened his borrowed uniform. If Reno was this much of a handful for a simple examination, Tseng had more work cut out for him than he had realized.

* * *

**Author's Note: I know this second chapter is late in coming, but I've been busy! Sorry! Between school and work and an attempted social life I have a lot less time on my hands for writing. I'll try and pick up the pace though!**


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